Moving My Hips Yeah
by Taylor Padfoot
Summary: America could blame it on a lot of things but, when it came down to it, all he wanted was to see Britain dancing in a hula-skirt. T for mentioned smut, kinks, innuendos, England's mouth, and France being France. UkUs in that order


_**Name**__: Moving Your Hips Like Yeah_

_**Summary**__: America could blame it on a lot of things but, when it came down to it, all he wanted was to see Britain dancing in a hula-skirt._

_**Genre**__: T Romance/Humour_

_**Author's Note**__: It looks weird, huh? I went to a hotel recently with my three best friends for one of their birthdays and while we were there we went to a luau. They had the nice people there hula dancing then they started pulling up people onto the stage. My best friend and I started thinking about the consequences if Arthur had to go up there and Alfred was forced to watch… And, well, what if Arthur was good at it? So, behold my humble little fanfiction which is kind of crap cause I'm supposed to be doing other stuff but it was eating at my mind. And cause this is the first time I've written anything like this._

_I do not own Hetalia, Hawaii, or hula dancing. I do own this terrible plot line though =/=_

America could blame it on a lot of things but, when it came down to it, all he'd wanted was to see Britain dancing in a hula-skirt. It hadn't been an apparent obsession or even a kink that Alfred F. Jones had been aware of at that time. It all began when Alfred received a distressed call at six in the morning two days before the world conference from the head of the UN office.

Barely awake to recognize the burning pain in his arse, let alone the phone ringing, it was actually Arthur who answered the phone. "'llo?"

"Mr. America?"

"Hold on." Arthur pressed a hand to the speaker of the phone and nudged the man beside him.

"It's for you, love."

Alfred rubbed a hand across his face as he rolled over to face him, fighting back a groan, "I'm not here."

"Git, then why on earth am I here?"

"You're my deranged stalker who likes to sleep in my bed when I'm not here," the American reasoned and rolled over.

"Ow! Dude, get your knee off! It hurts bad enough down there," he cried sitting up.

Alfred could almost hear the smug smirk on his boyfriend's face. "That's what you get for not letting me stretch you out more last night. Too eager for you own damn good." Arthur growled into the American's ear, "Now answer the bleeding phone."

Alfred glared half-heartedly at his long time boyfriend before taking the phone from him.

"America here, what's so important someone had to call me this early?" At that hour of the morning, he felt no need for the usual formality he answered political calls with. After a few seconds of silence from the other end, he felt his stomach drop and the colour drain from his face.

"Is the White House okay? Did something happen? Did we have another 9/11? Is everyone alright?"

"No, no, no. It's nothing like that, Mr. America," the woman on the other side of the line assured.

Alfred felt his whole body relax and noticed the man beside him did too. "Okay," his tone swapped from relieved to annoyed, "then why the hell am I being called this early in the morning?"

The line was silent once more and for a few moments, he thought the woman had hung up on him.

"Hello?"

"Uhm... I was told to call you and tell you we have a little, tiny problem, Mr. America."

"What's the problem?"

Silence.

"Whatever it is, it can be fixed, right? I mean the World Conference meeting's in a few days and..."

The line was quiet again and Alfred released a low groan of frustration.

"Miss, can you just tell me what happened instead of being quiet every ten seconds? So not cool to leave a dude dangling like that!"

The woman sighed before continuing, "The fifth, eleventh, twenty-second, and thirty-eighth floors are flooded. That doesn't include the busted pipes in the conference room, the water stains covering every other floor and the fact the whole building smells like mildew and sewage. On top of that, the elevator isn't working because it's filled with water."

Once more Alfred felt a groan escape from him that had nothing to do with the pain in his arse. "What happened? Can you fix it?"

"We're not sure how it happened but I can promise it'll be fixed. We should have it done in a week but—"

He wanted to shout, no scream, no; he wanted to kill someone. They'd had this date locked in since the last meeting three months ago (what more, it'd been the first time he'd actually remember the meeting! Obviously it was a help that his boyfriend and brother both hadn't let him forget it). It'd almost be okay if it'd happened earlier in the week, because with this short notice, it'd be a miracle for him to find a place to settle 192 countries, especially with hotels. Alfred ran a hand over his face. And there was no way he could lump them all into one. He had it set up before so nothing could go wrong and no one would kill each other. It took a pure genius to come up with that setting. Then again, Arthur had been in charge of that part.

"I don't have a week. I have two days, madam. Because, in two days, 192 countries will be flying in from all corners of the globe to meet together. This includes both close allies and not-so close allies," he could hear Arthur murmuring something about Russia in the background. "And when they don't have a conference centre to go to a hotel to stay in, do you know who gets fried? Me, dude, and that is not cool at all!"

"What about holding it at the White House?" the young woman offered.

Alfred could feel his patience slipping into nothingness. "I am gonna assume you are not aware of the past situations and who exactly is involved in the conference. Because of that, I will be the hero and forgive that statement. I suggest that you see to fixing the UN building as I see to keeping the world safe from evil countries."

The American released a dramatic sigh as he hung up the phone as she babbled out her answer to no one in particular.

"Such is the life of an American hero."

Alfred made a move to curl back under the sheets before he noticed a pair of blazing green eyes staring at him.

"What?"

"I could ask you the exact same thing," Arthur replied.

Alfred sat up once more and sighed, "It's nothing. Just we have to move the whole dang conference because the building is flooded."

The rest of the conversation involved Arthur's jaw nearly dropping off of his face (twice), Arthur at a loss for words (three times), and nearly cussing out everyone from Obama to Joe the Plumber (six times). By the time Arthur was made fully aware of the situation, he was out of bed and searching the floor for his clothes.

"But baby," Alfred whined, "It's six-thirty. Can't it wait until at least ten?"

Arthur threw Alfred's shirt at him and shook his head, "We have 190 countries to inform about this problem so get your arse out of bed or I will for you."

Maybe if Alfred had been more awake and they didn't have the Political Apocalypse on their hands, he might have made a joke about how he couldn't because his arse was a little sore thanks to the (not so) uptight Britain.

"I'm serious, Matthew, I had no idea about it until six o'clock yesterday morning. And you think you're annoyed about this?"

"But Hawaii? I mean really, Alfred, why? Is there even a place to hold a meeting in Honolulu?"

The American smiled and traded out his pants for a pair of shorts. This time of year, it was warm but still a little breezy in New York; he could easily have gotten away with wearing dress pants still. But now that the meeting was held in one of the most beautiful and warm climates he had the pleasure of owning, it was good bye pants, hello shorts.

"Of course there is! Hawaii's not just partying all day, bro, they actually do government crud. It's not all volcanoes, surfing, hula dancing, and luaus."

"But why there? I thought you'd have picked D.C. or even some capital _close_ to the UN building."

Alfred paused for a moment then laughed weakly, "It's a little iffy having foreigners, obviously not you, near the capital after the whole Twin Tower's incident. I'm just… Well, I mean…"

Another silence met his answer but this time it was appreciated.

"It's alright, Alfred, I get it."

Matthew sighed softly; it'd been awhile since that topic had been even mentioned between them.

"But why Hawaii?" he asked again.

Alfred chuckled and Matthew could almost see the Hero smile working its way across the American's face.

"Why not Hawaii? Dude, everyone at the meetings is so freaking bored! I think they need a work vacation. Like a vacation but they're still working! You dig?"

"Well, I guess it's better than you picking Las Vegas or something like that." Matthew chuckled softly, "Does Arthur know about it?"

"Duh!" Alfred laughed loudly. "He had to get a new ticket too! And he helped me plan it all out again. Why?"

Silence met his question and he felt a little annoyed at first (what was with people and not directly answering his questions on the phone?). "You two? Alone? In a hotel room? In Hawaii?"

"C'mon, Mattie, you act like Arthur and I have never been alone together."

"It's just; I want to get a little sleep tomorrow night."

It was Alfred's turn to be silent. "Honestly? Its not us you need to worry about. I'd be more frightened by the human hornball you room with, dude."

Alfred could almost hear the blood pool into his brother's face as the Canadian sputtered for an answer. He did hear, however, the laughter in the background and throaty voice in the phone.

"He does have you there, _Mon_ _chérie_."

"Yeah, whatever," Matthew grumbled softly. "Just, try to keep it down."

"We will if you will."

"I cannot make that promise, _Amérique_, you know how I tend to get excited sometimes."

"Sometimes, Francis?"

"Anytime he sees something beautiful in the room," amended Matthew.

"Anytime, I see you, _Matthieu_."

Alfred wasn't sure how it happened but, it did. By ten o'clock in the morning in Honolulu, all 192 countries were accounted for in the ballroom (which had been turned into a makeshift conference centre) with their water bottles, paper and pens. And what more, all countries had their hotels perfectly set up.

At first, Alfred had planned to let the countries reign free of the island until the word "luau" came up. Alfred figured 'What could be a better way to divulge into Hawaiian culture than a luau?' After much protest from his British boyfriend and half of the European Union, the whole group consented.

Six o'clock brought a colourful welcome in a large space of flora and fauna land behind the glamorous hotel. A wooden canopy covered rows and rows of tables seating about six persons each. It was rather amusing to see the reactions of various countries to both the atmosphere and the welcoming they received. Some were completely foreign (if not appearing revolted) to the idea of wearing flowers around their necks ("Neine! Neine! I vill not!" "Ve~ Germany, why not? It is pretty!") while others (a Russian in particular) seemed to welcome the idea with open arms (pipe included).

Alfred was giddy to be having a luau again, he'd been telling Arthur he'd drag him to one someday soon, and was about as into the whole thing as anyone. The dinner buffet was so amazing, even the Vargas brothers could appreciate the food.

As dinner was brought to a close and the live music stopped, a girl stood up on a small stage and began to explain how the evening would progress.

"This evening we will be showing you several popular and natives dances from here in the islands. Won't that be fun? And after our little show, we'll be glad to have some victims—I mean volunteers," she paused to allow the laughter to radiate from the audience, "up on the stage and we'll be glad to teach them everything for your amusement." She gave the crowd a flashy wink before adding, "Remember all coconut bras and grass skirts are one-size fits all!"

Alfred chuckled softly, pleased greatly by the pale look on his Briton's face.

"They're kidding about the clothing," he told Arthur who shoved him gently and nodded.

"So I figured, Alfred. I mean they couldn't—"

A loud crash broke Arthur's words off as one of the band members thumped his drumstick against a fairly large drum. A few women scurried out from behind the stage and appeared front and centre to perform what they called an original Tahitian dance. The whole room seemed entranced by the women's quivering hips as they moved in time with drum. Alfred suppressed with much difficulty a smile when he noticed the way Arthur's face was set in a rather bored look; as if he'd rather be anywhere else but there but he could see the slight interest hidden behind his uninterested expression.

He spent the rest of the performance watching Arthur more than the actual show. Arthur's face barely changed through the whole time despite the slight smile he gave when the male dancer came out. Alfred's short-lived moment of envy died down, however, when Arthur leaned over and rested his head on his shoulder and took his hand in his.

When the performance ended, Alfred joined in the multitude of applause as all but one of the girls ran backstage. The lone one on the stage came down into the audience and began to wander through the crowd.

"Alright, now we're looking for one special volunteer and no, going to the bathroom will not be allowed at the moment. When Luna taps you the shoulder, please just come up to the stage. And keep in mind, we do have two very big burly men who will not be afraid to drag you up here kicking and screaming."

Polite laughter filtered through the group as the hula dancer kept moving and everyone watched with either nervous or baited breath. Finally she looked up and Alfred felt his stomach drop; she was looking right at him. His palms began to sweat and suddenly the whole room felt hot. He hadn't hula danced in ages, not since that one time back in '67 after one too many spirits at that bar. He honestly didn't want to make a fool of himself, not right after he'd just completely saved his own sweet arse (California, if you want to be specific) from total embarrassment.

Alfred tensed his body and waited for the hand on his shoulder but it never came. However, a round of deafening laughter and applause sounded all around along with a nervous laugh from beside him, "Do I really have to do this?"

The American turned to see Arthur with an apprehensive look at the dancer whose hand was on his shoulder. When she nodded he slowly rose out of his seat with an expression, which he probably deemed as gentlemanly, and walked to the stage with the young dancer. Alfred couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face; this was about to get very interesting.

Aside from ballroom dancing and the 70's where Arthur became obsessed with punk music, he'd never known Arthur to dance all that well and especially not anything like this.

"What's your name sir?" the woman on stage asked once he'd made his way up with Luna.

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Artie, can I call you Artie?"

"Well, I—"

"Too bad cause I am anyway." She winked at the audience while Arthur mustered another polite smile.

"Where you from, Artie?"

"The United Kingdom."

The woman beside him gave what she reasoned to be a posh expression and raised her voice into a terrible British accent, "Oh you don't say. Have tea with the Queen?"

Arthur gave a warm smile before answering back, "Had dinner with the President?"

The room split into laughter while the announcer looked a little taken aback. She gave a playfully offended look before muttering into the mike "I'll remember that when I'm calling out your dance."

Once again she paused for laughter.

"You ready to dance?"

Arthur snorted, "Not really."

"Well too bad," she winked once more.

_Three_, Alfred counted in his head.

"Are you all ready to see Artie here dance?"

Cat-calls, wolf-whistles, and roaring noises of audience approval met her simple question. The loudest among them a very sadistic Frenchman and a very happy American.

"Seems they're excited to see this," the woman commented gesturing to the table the two in question were at.

"Because they all know I don't dance," he waved over at Francis and Alfred.

"You know those two?"

Arthur laughed softly before answering. "My boyfriend and my best friend with his boyfriend."

Francis, with his arm wrapped tightly around an embarrassed Matthew, waved at the audience while Alfred just flashed his signature Hero Smile.

"Well hello there!" the announcer cried out enthusiastically. "How long you two boys been dating?"

Alfred and Arthur exchanged glances, not wanting to admit just how old they really were.

"Not long enough," Arthur answered

Once more the woman on the mike gave her input, cooing shrilly, "Isn't that just too cute?"

Francis wolf-whistled once more.

"He won't mind this, will he? Well, either way he can't say yes or no."

Alfred gave a polite laugh and clapped his hands quietly. There was a bit of a relief in having a gay boyfriend amongst a bunch of girls.

"I've been stalling long enough. Ladies, are you ready?"

Once more, the group of six girls came out and swarmed around Arthur who looked as uncomfortable as could be.

"Let me tell you the rules, my good man. Luna here is going to show you what your goal is, she'll teach it to you and then you get to dance for all these lovely people out here." The woman paused to look at Alfred, "You have your camera ready?"

Alfred groaned; what a day for him to forget it in the hotel room.

Without further ado, the other five women backed up and Luna and Arthur were left alone centre stage. Alfred couldn't help but smile at the embarrassed look on Arthur's face as he watched the woman dance in front of him. Every few seconds the green eyes would dart into his direction then back to the woman. It happened so frequently the woman got right between their views just to make sure he stayed focused (much to the audience's delight).

A few seconds later the woman reached forward and put her hands on Arthur's hips, moving them along with hers. The American felt something pulse through his body which certainly wasn't amusement. But before he could vocalize his complaints, his mind became sucked into the dance. It was strange to watch but Arthur was, well, graceful. He seemed to have an ease about his movements, as if he did this every day. He hated to admit it, but it was hypnotic the way Arthur's hips bounced and glided with the rhythm.

The hula girl and the announcer both began to praise him, calling him a true natural. The woman dancer decided to throw a little twist in, making him copy what she did without her help. And to Alfred's absolute horror (or pleasure) Arthur was great at it. He was nearly coming undone in his seat, watching his boyfriend's hips and wondering why on earth he'd never seen it before. It was odd, it was strange; it was damn hot.

Alfred was far from complaining now about the whole evening outside of the fact he was in a crowd and Florida was starting to wake up. Oh hell yes, Florida was awake and at this rate he was not going to sleep anytime soon.

What caused it? Could have been the fact the air was warm to begin with making Arthur sweat without the help of the dancing. But the fact his white dress shirt was sticking to his slim body while his hips moved to a rhythm all their own and he had an almost seductive look on his face was about to throw him into a frenzy.

In his seat he continued to watch, crossing his legs to hide his growing problem, soft sounds escaped. Francis looked over at him several times trying not to laugh while Matthew leaned over to ask if he was having stomach problems.

"No. Fine. Just hot." And it had nothing to do with the weather.

The more he sat there watching, the more his mind began to wander. What would that dance look like if Arthur was in a grass skirt? Or a regular skirt? Or even that blasted kilt he was forced to wear when he was entertaining for his Scottish First Minister.

In Alfred's opinion, that dance couldn't end soon enough. As a good portion got up to applaud, Alfred got up to leave. Halfway across the room, Alfred seized his boyfriend's elbow and started dragging him out of the room not caring if it caused a scene.

"Alfred what the blood hell are you doing?" Arthur cried out, stumbling after his boyfriend. They could hear the announcer cracking more jokes as Luna searched for another volunteer. By the shrill cries of an angry Italian, Arthur wagered the next victim was less than thrilled.

Alfred didn't dare to answer questions until they reached the elevator. As soon as the doors were open though, Alfred shoved Arthur into the space and practically jumped him. His lips crashed against Arthur's while his hips moved on their own accord.

"What the-?" Arthur sputtered, rather surprised by all of this at first. By the second floor his brain was finally clicking and the ride up was used well.

By the time the doors opened up on their floor (after a trip back down to the lobby and up again twice by Alfred's doing), the elevator was unbearably warm and both were rather aware how the evening was going to be spent.

"You liked the show, I take it," Arthur breathed against Alfred's neck as the latter fumbled with the room key as they stood in front of their room.

"How? When? Where?" the younger nation practically moaned.

Arthur slid his arms around the American and lined himself flush against him, "That would have to be about three years after your Independence. One of my men stumbled upon the islands and the next thing I know, I'm brought out there to charm the locals. Looks like they charmed me."

Alfred nodded his head almost frantically at this. By the time the American got the door open, he was nearing desperation. He practically shoved Arthur down onto the bed who calmly smiled up at him.

"Never again."

"Never?" purred Arthur.

"Never for anyone else but me," the American growled and placed hard nips to the Briton's neck.

The latter tried to suppress a moan (damn, Edinburg had always been a sensitive area), Arthur sighed heavily, dramatically even. "Sounds like an order and I don't take orders well, savvy?"

Alfred practically smashed his lips down onto Arthur's, eager to do what he'd wanted to the whole demonstration.

"That is an order."

"Sounds like a plea to me."

Alfred groaned and pressed his hips down as if to make a point.

Arthur chuckled and pulled Alfred down for another kiss, "Mmm… If you behave, I'll show you what exactly my hips can do."

**Thank you for reading and thanks to my fabulous Beta for editing my story.  
>I apologize for the badness of it; I can't do this that well I guess. R&amp;R or favourite. I won't mind ;]<strong>


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